


Quiet Mind

by crazyTXgradstudent



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha and Beta, Andrea and Rick were together, Andreas comic book death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hate to Love, Heavy Angst, Kinda, Michonne is still alive, Past Rape/Non-con, Rick and Negan are kinda friends, Rick's hand, Whisperers, Whisperers War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-01-16 23:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12352713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyTXgradstudent/pseuds/crazyTXgradstudent
Summary: This is my take on what happens after Rick loses someone he loves...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so I have been wanting to do a Rick fic forever, and I think I finally have the idea. This fic will take place after All out War, and after the Whisperers War. Follows the comics, so Rick was with Andrea, who has since succumbed to a walker bite. That means Michonne is still alive. Negan is also around. This will be Rick's story, though. 
> 
> Though it will loosely follow the comics, I will let the story go where it goes. Hope you guys enjoy it! I needed a Rick fic in my life haha
> 
> ***Music courtesy of Blue October***

_**If you’re sleeping, are you dreaming, if you’re dreaming are you dreaming of me?** _

  
**I have to block out thoughts of you, so I don’t lose my head,**

**they're crawling like a cockroach, leaving babies in my head.**

**Dropping little reels of tape, to remind me that I’m alone,**

**playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home…**

  
He’d lost count of the days, the nights — they all seemed to blur into one another. He grabbed his boots from under his bed and shoved his feet into them with a grunt. Same story, different day. It was the nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from. With a bone-weary sigh, he pushed off the bed and stood, and as quiet as possible, he used his one good hand and pulled his shirt back on.

He’d get no sleep tonight — _or any other night_ — so he did what he’d done since _it_ had happened. He took a walk.

* * *

 

From his spot on his porch, Negan quietly watched as Rick made his way down the dark road. He knew where Rick was going. He’d watched him make this trip too many times to count, and to be honest, even Negan could feel little sadness creep into his own heart. While he and Rick weren’t best friends, they’d become at least acquaintances. And Negan hated to watch his fri— _acquaintance -_ go through what he was going through. He fucking hated it.'

* * *

 

  
“I’m sorry, Andrea. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t there, and I failed you. I said I was gonna take care of you. I told Carl, I told…” Rick choked back a sob — “I told Judy…I told them both, I was gonna make it right with you. I was gonna take care of you. But I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry…I couldn’t do it.”

Rick knelt before the makeshift grave, the wooden cross a solemn reminder of yet another thing he’d lost to this world. Feeling his tears escape him yet again, Rick rolled over, curling his body into a fetal position. HIs fingers found the cross, and he held on as if it were his very life-line to her. To his love. He closed his eyes, finally succumbing to a restless sleep filled with unending nightmares.

* * *

 

“You’re gonna freeze your ass off,” Negan mumbled under his breath as he, too, did what he did every night since _it_ had happened. He also took a walk down to the graveyard. The only difference was that he carried a blanket with him, and tonight he even had a waterproof poncho. He carefully laid the blanket on top of Rick, ensuring that the man’s upper body was covered. He then covered it with the poncho, doing the best he could to keep the wetness at bay. When he was through, Negan silently made his way back to his house. He’d done what he could.

Trying to get Rick to leave his post was impossible. Hell, they’d all tried. Now they just let him stay, let him mourn in his own way.

Didn’t mean he had to freeze his ass off though.

* * *

 

Not even 10 miles down the road, she did much the same. Except tonight she’d be sleeping in an abandoned shed she’d found set back off the road. No fire, as there were too many walkers milling about outside. She sighed miserably. Same story, different shed. She silently peeled the lid off her last can of beans, and gave it a small sniff to see just how stale they were. Her nose crinkled as she shoved a mouthful in; _they were stale, but not poisonous_. They’d have to do.

As she ate, she stared out the window, watching as rivulets of rain began to roll down. It was always raining. Or humid. Or blistering hot. Finally, it was starting to get cool, and she assumed this drizzle was accompanying a cool front. Lord knows cooler weather was welcome, but winter would bring it’s own set of problems. Being alone just added to them. 

It was no joke out here, especially being a woman. She took another bite of beans, but felt her stomach sour at the reminder of her previous group. It’s not like she wanted to be out here alone. Hell, there was safety in numbers. It was how she’d survived for so long.

But her role there had become clear as mud, and she simply couldn’t do it any longer. To walk around in the skin of the undead was one thing, but to be offered up to the men as if her body weren’t her own was an entirely different matter. Feeling the bile rise in her stomach at the unwanted memories, she set the beans down, doing her best not to vomit. She pulled the blanket up around her shoulders as she scooted up against the wall. Sleep would evade her, she knew this. The memories plagued her, haunted her nights and tormented her days, and she knew tonight would be no different. It was always the same thing.

She was going to kill them — both of them —if it was the last thing on Earth she ever did.


	2. Chapter 2

**2 months later…**

 “Well ho-ly shit! This must be some magical zombie apocaplypse shit! Since when do trees start sprouting hot babes?” Negan grinned up at the tree. “Why don’t you come on down, sweetheart? I won’t bite,” he winked up at her, “not hard anyways.”

“Fuck you,” Sydney spouted down at him, taking in his appearance. He had dark hair, and might have been called attractive in an earlier time. Now, he was just another probable asshole.

“That’s so sweet, but I don’t even know you.” Negan lazily popped a hand up on his hip, continuing to stare up at her. “Now get your ass down from that tree. I’d hate to have ole’ Daryl here have to shoot you down like the wild animal you are.”

Sydney looked around, wondering where this _Daryl_ might be. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, as she watched a wild looking man emerge from the the underbrush. He had a crossbow, and it, too,  was aimed right up at her her. Of all the fucking luck...

“She the only one?” the man called Daryl rasped out, never taking his eye —or aim — off of her. Negan nodded.

“Far as I can tell, yeah.”

“Look, I’m not causing any trouble. Why don’t you two just go on, and leave me be?” Sydney shifted her weight to the other side, doing her best to wrap her fingers around her knife without the two men knowing.

“Yeah, well un-fucking-fortuntaley for you, you’re trespassing on our land. And we can’t have that. Too many crazy fucks around here, so like I said, bring your ass down.” Negan took a step forward. “Or we’re gonna shoot you down. Your choice, doll.”

“ _And like I said_ , fuck you,” Sydney hissed back, enraged at his choice of words. Before the dark haired man could respond, Sydney grabbed her backpack and jumped off the limb, doing her best to escape, but it was no use. As soon as her feet hit the ground, the other man, Daryl, was on her. He pinned her to the ground, forcing her mouth into the wet dirt. Sydney grunted in pain, but didn’t struggle; it was no use.

“And like I said," --Negan mocked her tone --"I don’t even know you,” Negan grinned down at her as he removed the knife from her hand. “You got any more weapons on you?”

Sydney remained quiet, refusing to answer.

“Better pat her down,” Daryl mumbled from above her ear. He’d maneuvered himself so that his knee was pressed into her back.

“You put your hands on me, and I’ll kill you both,” Sydney hissed again. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, and she clenched them shut to ward them off. She’d be damned if these two saw her cry.  She wasn't going down without a fight. 

“We don't wanna touch you, doll, we just gotta make sure you aren’t gonna kill us.” Negan remarked casually. He quickly ran his hands over her body, but was careful to not touch her inappropriately. He stood, satisfied that the woman was clean.

“We ain’t gonna hurt you,” Daryl spoke softly as he leaned back, reaffirming what the other man had said. “We just gotta make sure.”

“Sure you aren’t,” Sydney muttered under her breath. She couldn’t see where the other man was, and it was terrifying her to think what might happen.

“We ain’t.” Daryl reiterated again. “We gonna let you up, but if you try anything, we’ll kill ya.” Daryl slowly removed his hand, and as fast as could be, Sydney sat up, scooting back on her bottom to get away. She backed up into a tree, and stopped, staring back at Daryl and the other man. The arrogant, dark-haired man was still grinning at her.

“What now?” Sydney’s gaze narrowed as she stared between the two of them. Daryl was quiet, only glancing up at her every now and then as he kicked at the ground.

“Now, we go back home,” the dark haired man replied. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You can come with, if you’d like.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because it fucking sucks out here, sweetheart. These undead fucks won’t hesitate to touch you. Us,” — he gestured between himself and Daryl —“not so much.”

“That’s what they all say,” Sydney muttered again. There was no way she could believe these assholes. She braced herself as the dark-haired man stepped forward.

He extended his hand down to her.

“I’m Negan. This is Daryl,"—he nodded at the cross-bow wielding man,—“and it would be completely fucking awesome if you came with us.”

“Why?” Sydney asked, feeling like she didn’t have much choice in the matter.

“Because we’re asking so fucking nicely, okay?” Negan gave her a great big smile as he offered his hand again. Sydney brushed it aside as she stood, her face set in a scowl.  She knew she had no choice but to follow. 

“Let’s go,” Daryl turned to walk off, and Sydney followed, with Negan bringing up the rear.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I am gonna veer off a bit from the comics. I just don't have it in me to work around Rick having only one hand. Also, the relationship between Rick and Negan is a real thing. In the comics. I will explain as we go along. And I included Daryl, so there's another shift haha
> 
> PS...this was fun to write haha! I hope y'all enjoy this as much as I do ;-)

**Alexandria**

Sydney’s eyes popped open as the gates rolled back. It had been so long since she’d seen any place like this, and she could barely contain her awe.  Her expression wasn't lost on at least one of the men. 

“Nice, huh?” Negan asked proudly. “It’s called Alexandria. Way fucking better than a tree out in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

Sydney rolled her eyes at Negan, but he was undeterred. He was such an annoying asshole, she thought to herself, as he continued to ramble on about the greatness of this place. She did her best to _not_ hear him, to _not_  show any interest in what he was saying. Instead, she made mental notes of things: exits, cars, watchtowers, buildings -  all things she would need when it came time to leave. The other part of her brain was trying to figure out where she’d heard the name “ _Alexandria”_. She knew she’d heard it somewhere, but couldn’t put her finger on it.

“We need to go see Rick,” Daryl said as he closed the gate and locked it behind him.

“Who’s Rick?” Sydney asked, her earlier awe gone as unease crept in again. Another man, another problem that she wasn’t prepared for. She had no weapons —  _they’d all been stripped_ — and she had nowhere to go if she needed to escape.  She'd seen all the guards on the walls; she'd be hard-pressed to get far from here on foot by herself. 

“He’s the leader here. We need to go by there first,” Daryl answered quietly, and she turned her eyes back to him, curious as he looked away.

He was cagey, wild even, watching her just as warily as she was watching him. Sydney had surmised that he was the hunter of the duo that had brought her in, the evidence being the two rabbits that he currently had draped over his shoulder. He began walking, and Sydney followed behind, with that asshole Negan in tow. Less than a hundred yards later, the road opened up to a small clearing.

Unable to help it this time, Sydney’s jaw fell again at the scene before her. She saw people gardening as if it were the old days. Women, men, and children, all with their hands in the dirt, and smiles on their faces as they planted seeds. Even though it was later summer, they were still working the garden, and she could see some of the fruits of their labor in nearby baskets. Again, Negan caught her expression, this time playfully nudging her in the arm.

“Told ya so.”

Sydney bristled, the scowl returning as she pulled her hoodie tighter around her small frame. “And I told you, touch me again and I’ll cut your dick off.” Despite him being handsome, he was an irksome, arrogant bastard... _one that she’d just about had enough of._

“I honest to fucking God think I’m in love with you,” Negan laughed loudly, much to Sydney’s annoyance.

She grit her teeth, and shook her head. Yep, she really hated this douchebag.

“Hey Rick!” Daryl called, and Sydney watched as a man stood up from the ground.

He had what she thought was dark blonde hair, a mixture between wavy and curly. His shirt was soaked through with sweat, clearly defining his lean back muscles. When he turned, she could see he had a full beard. She watched from under hooded eyes as he grabbed a cane and began walking towards them. He hardly looked like someone who would lead a community as vast as what Alexandria appeared to be, but then again, she wouldn’t be surprised…considering where she’d come from.  Nothing made sense any more.  

“Your leader uses a cane?” Sydney snorted with derision.  She didn’t catch Daryl’s glare, and she purposely avoided looking at Negan as she watched the leader approach them. 

“Daryl. Negan.” The leader’s thick southern drawl surprised Sydney, and she felt herself looking up despite her best intentions. He was taller than her, at least half a foot. Bright, curious blue eyes met hers for just a split second before she quickly looked away. “Who’s this?”

“Found her holed up in a tree, not 2 miles from here,” Daryl answered. “Figured we’d bring her in.”

“She know anything?” Rick asked.

“I’m standing right here, why don’t you ask me?” Sydney’s head snapped up, her tawny eyes flashing with indignation. Rick stared back at her, seeming to see inside her. She tried her best, but could not hold his intense gaze, and was forced to look away.

“Alright, miss, where're you from?” Rick asked, his head tilting to the right ever so slightly. 

“Around.”  Sydney was deadpan as she stared down at Rick's dusty boots.  They look like they should have been retired about 15 years ago. 

Negan chuckled behind her, grating on her nerves. 

Rick cracked a lopsided smile underneath his beard. “Yeah. Yeah, I bet.” He looked over at Negan, and nodded just barely. The next thing Sydney knew, Negan had a knife pressed up against the bare skin of her throat. Sydney gulped, wincing when the blade scratched at her skin with every movement. Negan had a tight grip on her upper arm, and she knew she was in a bad spot.

“Now, let me ask you again. _Where are you from_?” Rick leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, a crease between his brows.  

All earlier humor was gone, you could feel the charge in the air.  In that moment, Sydney might have felt a little afraid of Rick.    _Actually she was a lot afraid._  For someone who looked not so scary - _and maybe a little broken a few moments ago_ \- he had quickly morphed into someone that had her heart beating a little faster.  She knew it would only take another nod from Rick, and Negan would slit her throat, right here in front of God and everyone.  She saw the glimmer in Rick's eyes, and she knew that he knew that he was getting to her.  Inside her head.  He was toying with her, and she hated him all the more for it. 

“Don’t you wanna know my name first?” Sydney couldn’t help but snarl, so pissed off she was. She no longer cared about living or dying.  She hadn't for a long time, but nevertheless, she gulped when she felt Negan tilt her head back with the flick of his knife blade, it's sharp edge nicking at the delicate skin there. 

“She’s a goddamned spitfire, isn’t she?” Negan chuckled from above her.  Sydney had enough. She steeled herself for what was to come.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. She forced more, doing her best to be believable.  “I’ll cooperate.” She clawed at Negan’s arm. “My throat, I…I can’t breathe…I can’t…,” she sputtered helplessly.  And just as she hoped, Rick moved forward so that he could hear her better, his assumption being that she'd had second thoughts about cooperating.  

It happened in the blink of an eye. As hard as she could, Sydney ground her heel into Negan’s toe, and shoved her elbow into his ribs, forcing him to drop his knife as he howled with rage, releasing her from his grip. She then brought her knee up just as hard, landing it squarely in Rick’s groin, and she smirked as she watched him fall to the ground at her feet in a crumpled mess.  

“One wrong move and you get an arrow up the ass.  Just so you know," that raspy voice called out. Trying to be as still as possible, Sydney slowly lifted her hands and turned, her eyes widening just impercetpibly as she saw Daryl with a bolt aimed directly between her eyes. “I ain’t got no problem killin’ a woman.”

Sydney nodded with resigned understanding.

“Get down on your knees,” Daryl ordered, and Sydney complied.

Her eyes were downcast, and out out of her peripheral, she could just make out the edge of Rick’s worn boot as he struggled to get to his feet. _Stupid asshole_ , she thought to herself. A swift kick in the balls would bring any so-called leader down low. Her eyes defiantly followed him as he moved to stand before her, her chin lifted stubbornly. He glared down at her, his strong jaw ticking with a barely controlled rage, but she wouldn't look away.  If this was the end of the road, she'd be damned if she was gonna beg for mercy. Not from him, not from anyone.  

“Michonne.” Rick was still staring at her as he uttered that one word… _right before her world went black._


	4. Chapter 4

“Ow. Shit…” Sydney groaned as she attempted to roll over and sit up. Her head began throbbing even harder, and she gingerly touched the lump on the back of her head. Someone had cold-cocked her, probably with the butt-end of a gun or rifle. She couldn’t be sure, and she wasn’t sure it even mattered who had done it. Whoever “Michonne” was, that’s who she assumed had done it, but it didn't matter now. She kicked her legs out from underneath her, finally sitting up, and took in her surroundings.

She was in a goddamned cell.

Maybe 4X8, walls made from bars, and a chain lock on the front. 

A fucking prison cell, right in the middle of someone’s house.

_What the fuck?_

“Morning, sunshine,” Dary’s gravelly voice called as he emerged from the shadows. She hadn’t even known he was there. “Bet you got a headache, huh?” He pulled a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it up. The tip glowed in the darkness, illuminating the contours of the hunter's face in an eery way. 

“Yay. You’re not as stupid as I thought you were,” Sydney retorted. “Why am I in here?”

“It’s a cell.”

“No shit. Am I a prisoner now?” Sydney dragged herself up to a standing position. “What’s gonna happen to me? How long am I gonna be in here?”

“Don’t know,” Daryl replied lazily.

“Are you my guard? Where's Negan? Your boss?  Where are they?”

Daryl leaned back up against the wall as he regarded her, not talking, not answering her questions.  Only watching her as he smoked on his cigarette. Annoyed, Sydney rattled her cage as best as she could.

“You fucking asshole! Let me out of here! _**S** **omebody help me!!** **Help!!**_ ” She kicked and thrashed about, overwhelmed for just a moment as the reality set in. She was not safe, not even close. With a defeated moan, she dropped back down onto the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees; she subconsciously started rocking.  Daryl continued to watch her from his post, still not talking. It was deathly quiet, the only noise that of her heartbeat pounding in her ears.  

She nearly screamed when the door opened, and she could see from the silhouette that it was Rick.   _God...._

“She awake?”  

“Yep,” Daryl replied.

Rick walked over and stopped before the cell door, his cane in hand. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but you forced my hand.”

It was Sydney’s turn to remain quiet, tucked away in the shadows of the cell corner. She could feel herself spiraling, could feel that panic begin to set in as it threatened to overwhelm her. It was getting harder to breathe, and she struggled to breathe in, breathe out. One at a time.  It had been so damn long since she’d had a panic attack. She’d been so strong, but here she was, about to crumble right in front of this man. She dug her fingernails into her shins, doing her best to not let it get away from her. She had to maintain some control over something, even if it was just an illusion.

“Do you need anything? Tylenol? I can’t imagine your head is feeling too good right now.”

Still Sydney remained silent, unable to form words even if she wanted to.

“Okay. Okay.” Rick sighed deeply. He leaned down as far as he could, and pushed a bag through the opening in the cell bars. “There’s some food, some water. A few pain pills.” He slowly stood back up, pushing off on the cane for leverage. “One of us will be watching you at all times, so don’t even think about trying anything again. We don’t want to hurt you, but we will if we have to.”

He turned and made his way back over to Daryl. “You got this for now?”

“Yeah. We got a schedule. Negan will come next, then Morgan. Carl said he’d help.” Daryl ground out his cigarette and turned his chair around to straddle it. “Think we got it covered.”

“I’ll take Carl’s spot. He needs to get some rest. Let Negan know I’ll be in after him.” Rick looked over his shoulder at the woman in the cell. “Do we know her name yet? Where she’s from? Anything?”

“Nope, nothing,” Daryl shook his head. “She screamed and hollered for a few minutes, but ain’t said nothing since then.”

“Well, she doesn’t leave until we do. She can stay there forever as far as I care.” Rick tapped Daryl on the shoulder, and then made his way out into the night, shutting the door behind him.

From her spot in the corner of the cell, Sydney trembled as silent tears began to roll down her cheeks. 


	5. Chapter 5

Something metal was being banged against the bars.  The loud clanging was relentless, each one louder than the first.  

Sydney jerked awake, her head throbbing harder as the noise kept coming. “What the…” She looked up, her head fuzzy and eyes hazy.

“it’s time to have some fun, doll.”

Sydney groaned inwardly at that voice, her eyes closing in defeat. 

**Negan.**

“Oh no, no, no sweetness. We can’t have you sleeping, now can we?” Negan rapped a machete against the cell bars, the noise driving a dagger of pain through Sydney’s temples. “Abso-fucking-lutely no sleeping on my watch, doll. We have things to do, things to talk about.”

“Are you going to rape me?” Sydney asked plaintively. “If you are, just get on with it. I won’t even fight. Just get it over with, and let me sleep, please.” Her eyes closed, the heavy drowsiness taking over again.

“Rape?” Negan asked, practically gasping. The volume of his voice dragged Sydney’s eyes open again. “We don’t rape here, honey. Shit, I don’t have to rape. I got so many women crawling over my dick, I don’t need to rape. Trust me on that.”

Not believing him or anything he said, Sydney did her best to watch him as he came around the front of the cell and stood before the door. “Then what do you want from me? If you’re not gonna rape me, what do you want?”

“First off, your name would be fucking awesome. Then we can talk about other things.” He turned and grabbed a chair, bringing it in front of the cell and sat down, just as Daryl had, straddling it from behind.

“Donna.”

“The fuck? You are no Donna, doll. Try again.” Negan grinned at her, handsome as the devil, and deadly as sin.

“Why? Why is my name important?”

“Because that’s how civilized people have conversations, doll,” Negan continued grinning as he stood up.  "We start with introductions, and then we go from there." 

He pulled some rope from the floor, and dug a set of keys out of his pocket. “But, I can see that you’re not a civilized fucking individual, so we’re gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

“I will fucking kill you, I swear,” Sydney cried as she stood, wobbly on her feet. Double visions of the bastard danced before her eyes, and she fought back a wave of nausea. She rocked back on her heels as Negan opened the gate and stepped inside, a knife in one hand, the rope in the other.

“Challenge accepted, sweetheart.”


	6. Chapter 6

  
3 hours later….

Sydney was nearly sick with exhaustion, her head throbbing so much she thought she would pass out. Waves of nausea rolled over her body, forcing sweat to break out, soaking her clothes and hair. She couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering from cold. She just needed to fall asleep, to just lay down and not move, just for a few minutes. Negan had her literally strung up in the cell, one hand tied to one side, and one hand tied to the other, effectively keeping her upright since he’d taken watch. She could just barely reach the ground with her toes, forcing her to stand on tip-toe lest the ropes dig into her wrist and cut off her circulation.

Negan was unforgiving and cruel, his torture incessant.  He hadn’t let her sleep, hadn’t let her down, hadn’t let her close her eyes without doing something to make her come back awake. He’d thrown water on her, slapped her cheeks, prodded her with his machete. She was going insane, she could feel it. She’d cried, she’d screamed, hell she’d even begged, anything to make him let her go, but he was relentless in his pursuit of the truth. He only stopped when Rick walked in, essentially ruining Negan’s interrogation party. Sydney collapsed against her restraints, not caring anymore if she lost sensation. She wanted to die.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rick hissed as he pulled Negan aside.

“What has to be done to protect this place,” Negan scowled back. “She had some freaky shit in her backpack, Prick, and I wanna know what in the ever-loving fuck it is!”

Negan jerked his head at Rick, indicating he follow him out on the porch. Rick complied, and both men stood under the porch light. Negan shut the door, and pulled something out of the backpack the woman had been carrying.

Rick recoiled in disgust as he could finally make out what it was in the dim light. 

“She has a fucking mask in her back, Rick. The same kinda sick shit that fucking bitch Alpha wore, the same kind those fucking sick fucks wore in that group! She’s one of them, I’m telling you!”

Rick grit his teeth, looking around as his mind went a hundred miles an hour. What was he supposed to fucking do? If she was one of them - _if she was a Whisperer_ \- he needed the truth from her.  He needed to know what she knew. He needed this woman to tell them the plans Beta had now that Alpha had been murdered. He was still out there, still roaming and plotting, Rick was sure of it. Beta was the reason Andrea was dead. Rick was gonna kill that motherfucker, if it was the last thing he did on this godforsaken planet.

“Well, we can’t kill her just yet. We need her. If she is one of 'em, we need to know. We need to find out what she knows, what their plans are. We’ll deal with her after that,” Rick decided. Negan growled his disagreement, but followed Rick back into the house. He tossed the backpack up against the cell bars, sneering.

“Wanna tell us who that was? That poor sick fuck that you wore around like a Halloween mask?” Negan angrily paced in front of the cell. Sydney remained silent, her head bowed in defeat. Rick stared off at the far wall, uncomfortable with what was happening, but not stopping it either. “God damn, I wish I still had Lucille, so then I could bash your fucking skull in and piss on the remains!” Negan roared as he walked in the cell and lifted up Sydney’s head by her hair. Her eyes were glazed over, her lips bloody and chapped. The girl was barely alive. 

“Negan! Stop this! Right now, stop!” Rick shouted at Negan, trying to pull him back from the cage, but it was impossible.  

“I personally killed your fucking psycho den-mom, just so you know,” Negan snarled as he jerked out of Rick’s grasp. “That bitch Alpha, I gutted that bitch and brought her fucking bald head back to Rick here. Didn’t I, Rick? **_Didn’t I_**?” Negan spat at Sydney in his fury before releasing her hair. Sydney’s head dropped back down to her chest.

“Man, you need to stop! Calm the hell down!” Rick hissed as he dragged Negan from the house and out onto the porch. “Go, Negan. Go home. We’ll pick this up tomorrow.”

Negan shook his head in disbelief. “I shoulda known. You’re such a pussy sometimes, Rick. A real fucking pussy.”

“Go, Negan. Now.” Rick ordered softly, his hand on his Colt at his hip. While they’d formed an unlikely truce, Rick knew his limits.

So did Negan. Annoyed as hell, he stalked off to his house, leaving Rick alone on guard duty.

With a heavy sigh, Rick walked back in the house and shut the door. He cringed when he saw the woman, still tied up in the middle of the cell. Her head had somehow flopped back, and Rick could see that she was clearly passed out, her body straining at the rope constraints. Part of him wondered about her head, that maybe she had a concussion. The other part of him didn’t care. As of right now, she was with that sick group of people that walked around in walker skin. As of right now, she was the enemy.

Still...Rick Grimes had a conscious, somewhere buried deep inside, and he knew he couldn’t leave a woman like that.

He’d never be able to sit for the next three hours with her in that state.

As quietly as possible, he walked over to the cell and stepped inside. He leaned his cane up against the chair, and set to untying her wrists. All the while, he kept his eyes on her face, watching for any sign of her coming to. When he’d released the second rope, her body sagged to the floor, and he just barely caught her before she fell completely. Rick grunted with the exertion, wincing as his bad leg screamed in agony at the added weight. He half-carried, half-dragged her body to the makeshift pallet on the floor, and lay her down. She was still unconscious, and Rick took a few moments to look over her face.

She was on the skinny side, her body clearly a product of too little food and nourishment, much like everyone else. But she was not unattractive. Her pale skin was covered with a smattering of freckles across her nose, her thick lashes resting on high cheeks. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t place it. Maybe he’d seen her before, he didn’t know. He leaned over to look at the back of her head, searching for the wound in the mass of matted, dark waves. He found it, grimacing when he felt the blood surrounding the large lump. Michonne had hit her good. The woman moaned in her sleep, and Rick eased up with searching, knowing there was nothing he could do now. If she passed from a concussion, at least she’d be locked up in the cell. He’d worry about putting her down then.

He draped the blanket over her before grabbing his cane and stepping out. As he locked the door, he gave her one last look, and realized she was looking back at him. Her eyes were glossy, unfocused on him, and he wondered if she was really awake. He didn’t bother to check, and instead made his way back over to the spot where everyone was taking watch. He eased himself down the wall, situating himself on the old couch cushion with a weary sigh.

"What a fuckin' day," he mumbled to himself as he ran a hand over his bearded jaw.  What he wouldn't give for just one day of peace, for just one day when shit wasn't so bad. One day to just relax and not have to worry about a million things. 

Rick leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment as the silence settled over the room. In the early morning, Alexandria was relatively quiet, the only sound was the occasional voice from someone outside, the far-off sound of a door closing. Rick sucked in a deep breath and let it out, relaxig a bit more into the cushion.  Maybe he could catch a few zzz's. The girl wasn't going anywhere, and he certainly wasn't gonna put her through any more than Negan already had.  Yeah, he could afford an hour or two of sleep. 

But just as Rick was about to doze off, his eyes popped open at another sound. It was faint, and he almost didn’t believe it. Any softer, and he wouldn’t have heard it at all, that defeated whisper in the dark.

“Sydney. My name is Sydney Walsh.”


	7. Chapter 7

Rick felt himself stop breathing, felt his breath catch in his throat as the woman uttered those words so softly.

_There was no way._

**_Walsh?_ **

It was a coincidence, it had to be.  Besides, Walsh was a common name, he assured himself.  It was nothing more than an odd happenstance, maybe even a product of his guilty conscience that led him to believe that this woman - this girl - could be related to the man he'd killed back at the farm.  There was no way. 

The woman stirred on her makeshift cot, moaning in her sleep, and Rick felt his heart rate speed up. He stood, knowing what that moaning could mean.  He carefully walked over to the cell wall closest to her and prodded her with his cane.  Thankfully, she swatted at his cane, indicating that she was still amongst the living.  He stood taller, letting out another heavy breath as she settled back down.   He took the time to study her a bit more, his eyes roaming over her sleeping form.  

As he'd noticed before, she was thin - much too thin.  He could see her collarbones as they jutted out from under her thin tank top, could very nearly count the ribs across her chest.  He could see dark marks around her neck, and he could only assume they were bruises.  Probably from Negan. He frowned, his aggravation growing at the other man's heavy hands.  Rick Grimes was not in the business of hurting women, especially when it wasn't clear that they'd done anything wrong. The woman - Sydney - moaned again, drawing Rick's eyes back down to her.  

She definitely had Shane's coloring, if he were still running what that train of thought. Her nose could be considered a tad too big for her face, which was also a Shane trait.  But then again, Negan had very clearly tortured this girl, so maybe she was still swollen from whatever the hell it was he'd done.  

Still....

Rick tilted his head, watching her. Wondering.  What if Shane were still here?  Would things be better?  Rick questioned his leadership abilities daily - on the hour, on the minute, and more than once he'd thought how different things might be if Shane were still alive and helping. Maybe even running the show.  

But, Rick knew he never would have been able to co-exist with Shane, not when Lori was still around.  It would have never worked. Not for any of them. He shrugged his shoulders as if to rid himself of those thoughts.  What was done was done, nothing he could do about it now.  This girl - _this woman_ \- whoever she was, wouldn't have to know about Shane, if she was even his sister. _If she was even related to him._

Aggravated, and knowing he couldn’t stay inside any longer without waking her back up and demanding answers, he quietly left the house, and headed back home.  

 

* * *

  
“She won’t talk, Dad. Not to me at least. I did my best, but she never responded to me. Please don’t make me sit in there again!” Carl whined in frustration. From his spot by the door, Daryl watched. 

“Well, I can make her fucking talk!” Negan growled as he reached for his machete and began heading out the front door. Rick grabbed Negan’s arm, halting him at the door.

“Just…just wait. Let me try again.”

“We’re wasting time, Grimes,” Negan grumbled as he sat back down in his chair. “Every minute we fuck around with her, we’re wasting time.”

“What would you have me do?” Rick asked pointedly. “She’s the closet thing we got to figuring out what the rest of those Whisperers are doing. What Beta is doing. She’s the only chance we have to find out what’s happening.”

"I guess I could try again," Daryl grumbled to no one in particular.  "She didn't say much to me either."  

"No," Rick stated firmly. "I'll try again.  I'm the only one she spoke to so far, so I might be able to get somewhere with her."  He didn't want Carl back in there, not after what he'd heard her say early this morning.  

_Sydney Walsh._

No, Carl didn't need to be anywhere near this woman if there was even the slightest possibility that she was related to Shane. 

He pulled himself up, standing near the railing of the staircase as he regarded the other men.  "She'll talk to me. If she doesn't, then we find alternative ways to get info from her."  He grabbed his cane before tucking his Python into the holster at his thigh.  

"That's fucking right," Negan grinned sadistically as he twirled his machete in his hands.  It was all Rick could do not to roll his eyes. 

 

 

 

* * *

“Let me properly introduce myself,” Rick nodded his head. “I’m Rick Grimes.”

“I know who you are,” the woman replied softly. “You’re the leader of this place. Your son told me.” She stared at him, watching as he walked towards her. He was still limping, still leaning heavily on that cane, but he looked much better in the light of day.  It probably also helped that she could see now, being that some of the swelling had gone down around her eyes. He'd trimmed his beard, making him not look so...elderly...was the right word.  Now he just looked war-weary.  Hardened, even, but not nearly as old as she'd assumed he was previously. 

“Yeah, figures he would,” Rick chuckled as he grabbed a chair and pulled it before the cell. “Look, miss, we need to talk.”

“Sydney. My name is Sydney.” Sydney pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around herself as she regarded Rick. 

“Okay…Sydney.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he studied her. “Last night, this morning…you said your name. I’m pretty sure I heard you say Walsh. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Sydney nodded. “My last name is Walsh. Why?”

“Do you have family around here, Mrs…Miss…”

“It’s Miss, and yes, I have family here.” Sydney’s brows furrowed as she looked away from Rick. “Or had family, I don’t know if they’re still alive though. I came here looking for my brother. Last I heard he was headed down to King County to work for the police department there.”

Rick felt his stomach drop at her words, and he prayed his face gave nothing away. He pushed it out of his mind and continued. “And now? How did you end up with those people, with the Whisperers?”

His words were laced with an accusation that Sydney didn’t miss.

Her eyes flashed with anger as they came back around to Rick. “ _I wasn’t with those people._ At least not like that. We - my boyfriend and I - saved one of theirs, and they tried to recruit us to join them. When we said no, they tried to kill us and take our stuff. We fought back, but my boyfriend was bitten by a walker, and they took him. They took him and they skinned him, and they would have done the same to me unless I joined them, but I escaped.”

“You had skin - one of those masks -in your backpack!” Rick countered. “You’re telling me that—”

“That was my boyfriend. That was Jon,” Sydney spat back, her ire rising at his words. “I killed the man wearing it, and I was going to kill Alpha and Beta, until Dumb and Dumber kidnapped me!”

“You know of Alpha and Beta?” Rick leaned forward. “What do you know?”

“I know that sick bitch wanted us to join, with the condition that I was basically gonna get raped whenever anyone felt like it. That Jon could do whatever he wanted. That young girls got raped, that her own daughter got raped. And her stupid bodyguard, Beta, was no better.” Sydney curled around herself again. “I know that they are horrible, disgusting excuses for humans, and I was going to kill them, until your men came along.”

“Well, Negan was telling the truth. Alpha is dead, he killed her himself.” Rick watched the emotions flit across her face. First confusion, then disbelief, and finally a shimmering of tears that quickly morphed into a simmering rage as her revenge was ripped out from underneath her. 

“And Beta?” she grit out from behind clenched teeth. “Did Negan kill him too?”

Rick shook his head. “No. That’s what we were hoping you could help us with.”

“And why would I help you? Negan beat the shit outta me.”

“Yeah, and he would have killed you if he thought it would save us or him,” Rick spoke gently, doing his best to calm the woman down. “Look, we can work together. We can find Beta, take him out, and end all of this. The Whisperers are still out there, and they have numbers. We have to know how many, where they stay, all of that.” Rick leaned forward. “Can you help us?”

“What happened to your leg?”

“What?,” Rick frowned at the change of subject. “We’re not talking about that, we’re talking about you and the Whisperers.”

“Did you break it? Born that way?” Sydney doggedly persisted.

“Look, ma’am—” Rick growled back, his patience fading.

“I mean, what are you, like 50? 49?” Sydney tilted her head as she studied the leader of Alexandria.  His brows furrowed, and she had to fight the urge to giggle at the offense he clearly took to her words. 

“I’m 44. I think,” Rick muttered, unsure of why he was answering her questions instead of her answering his. She was getting damn annoying.

“Too young for a cane, so I’m assuming it was broken?” Sydney leaned forward to get a better look. “You’re in luck, cause before this, I used to work at a rehab place. Just getting started as a physical therapist.”

“Yeah, well, that’s great. I don’t care right now about my leg, or what you did before this. All I care about is finding Beta and the rest of those people, and ending this once and for all.” Rick hauled himself up into a standing position. “Are you gonna help or not?”

"What's in it for me?" Sydney countered.  "I mean, I could tell you all I know, and then you still kill  me? Or I could tell you nothing, and you still kill me. Seems like I lose out either way."  

"Look, we don't operate like that here. You help us out, we get to trust you, and you can have your freedom. Stay here, leave, I don't care."  Rick leaned forward, his face dead serious.  "But know this, if I even think that you're gonna be trouble, we'll kill you. Make no mistake about that." 

"Sounds like an offer I can't refuse, then," Sydney toyed with her matted hair.  "Are you gonna let me go with you?"  

"I don't-"

"If I help you, Beta is mine. That's the deal," Sydney's dark eyes flashed anew.  "Otherwise, the answer is no."  

Annoyed at her assumption that she had a single ounce of control, Rick stood up to his full height.  "I could just have you killed right now."

Sydney also dragged herself to a standing position, not two feet in front of Rick. Her chin lifted stubbornly.  "That's not the kind of man you are, Rick Grimes.  I can see that from a mile away." 

"Fine," Rick agreed from between clenched teeth.  "You'll come with us. Lead us to him and the rest of them, and you can have Beta. Deal?"  

"Deal," Sydney nodded.  Rick regarded her for just a moment more, and then wordlessly turned on his heel.  Sydney rushed towards the bars as quick as she could manage.  "Wait! Are you gonna let me out? Let me get cleaned up? I can't stay in here!"  

Rick didn't even look back at her as he opened the door, instead tossing his words over his shoulder, "I'll think about it."  The door shut behind him, enveloping Sydney in silence once again.  

"Bastard!" She screeched as she headed back to her makeshift cot and sat down as carefully as possible.  Just as soon as she got the opportunity, she was gonna kick Rick Grimes in the balls again. Only this time, it was going to be much harder.  

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Later that evening, Rick lay in his bed, tossing and turning for what seemed like forever. He couldn’t get her words out of his mind.

They’d decided to leave her in the cell, even though she had spilled more information to Daryl. She seemed to take to Daryl more than anyone, strange as that was. Enough information to give them a lead on where the rest of the Whisperers might be. If she was lying, they’d know soon enough, and she’d be dead. For now, they only had her word to go on, and not much else. Rick couldn’t find a reason for her to lie, but who really knew anyone anymore? She could be just as crazy as the Whisperers.

_Or as unhinged as Shane..._

She had to be his sister. What other explanation was there? She had come down looking for him, she’d said. Shane had never mentioned a little sister. This girl - no woman - was clearly younger than Shane had been. Rick knew Shane’s father hadn’t always been on the up-and-up, so it was possible that he’d had another child somewhere along the way.  Shane's whole family was just as dysfunctional as Shane was. It was plausible. 

Shit, though. What would she do when she found out he’d killed her brother? How would he explain that? There was no way she could have known what kind of man Shane had turned out to be, the corners that Shane had backed him into. Besides —he argued internally — he owed this woman no explanation for what had happened so long ago.  She wasn’t there, she had no idea what had happened or why.  He owed her nothing. The only thing that mattered anymore was the kids. And this place. 

He rolled over, staring at the polaroid of Andrea that was still sitting on his nightstand. He missed her so much. He wished she was here, she’d know what to do with this girl. He missed her being in bed with him, missed her warmth. Yes, he had Carl and Judith, _but he had no one left_. No one that truly cared for him. It was like the whole place had drifted apart. Maggie was up at the Hilltop, Daryl had always done his thing. With Andrea, he had another adult to share things with. To share this struggle with, someone to back him up. Someone that would make him pull his head out of his ass when he needed to. With Andrea, he had someone to come home to.

Now he had nobody, and he’d never felt more alone than he did at night, than he did right now. Every night was the same, a repeat of the night before. Ever since she'd left him behind. It was going on 3 months now that she’d been gone, yet it still felt like yesterday. He could physically feel the loss deep inside his heart, as if a part of him had died with her. He wondered if the pain would ever subside, if he’d ever feel anything again. His tendency now was to just go through the motions, even with Carl and Judith. He just couldn’t feel anything, try as he might.

Feeling made you vulnerable. Caring got people hurt. Loving made your guard come down, got people killed.

 _No -_ he reasoned with himself _\- it was better to be as dead inside as those things outside the walls._

Rick pulled his boots back on, flexing his hand a few times to stretch the scar tissue lacing his palm. At least it was healing, and he no longer feared losing his whole hand.  He slowly stood, and grabbed his cane, and silently let himself out into the night.

* * *

 

Daryl found him the next morning, again curled around Andrea’s grave marker.

“Rick,” Daryl nudged Rick with his boot to stir him. “Time to get up, man. Let’s go.”

Rick rolled over, squinting up into the bright sun as he tried to focus on Daryl. “What time is it?”

“After six. We gotta go if we’re gonna get there by noon.”

Rick hauled himself up to a sitting position, running a hand over his steadily-growing beard. “Okay. Let me get cleaned up.” Daryl gave him a hand, hauling him to his feet. “Give me a few minutes, and we’ll go.”

“Sydney is coming with us, right?” Daryl’s eyes met Rick’s.  Rick dusted his jeans off. 

“I told her she could, if she showed us where they were. She can have Beta if he’s there.” The two men started walking towards Rick’s house.

“I think we need to let her out, let her get cleaned up. She’s as loud as a damn screech owl. All night long,” Daryl grunted. “She told me more about her boyfriend, how they ended up with those Whisperers. They were with them for a while. Girl’s been through a lot, Rick.”

They stopped at Rick’s door.

“You think she’s Shane’s sister?” Rick quietly asked, looking around to be sure no one was in close proximity.

“You said his dad was George, right?”

Rick nodded again.

“Yeah, she said her mom told her that her dad was a George Walsh, that he was in Kentucky. She knew that Shane had worked up there before coming down here. She said she never met Shane, or George, or anyone else on that side of the family. I guess her dad kinda shit on her and her mama, typical dead-beat dad bullshit.”

“Well shit,” Rick muttered as he leaned up against the door jamb. “Makes things a little more complicated, don’t it?”

Daryl snorted, “Ain’t they always?”

“We gotta keep Carl away from her. Let Carol know. And anyone else that might know the whole Shane story. At least until we figure out what we’re gonna do with her.” Rick stared off down the road, watching as people began milling about. His mind was turning with a million and one things, none of which he was in the mood to be dealing with.

“She’s super pissed at you,” Daryl gave his customary smirk.  Rick was a bit taken aback at the comment, his head to the side curiously. 

“Me? Why?”

“Said something about kicking you in the balls again.”

Rick rolled his eyes at that memory, but didn’t respond to Daryl’s jab. “Let her out, but keep an eye on her. Let her get cleaned up, maybe at Michonne’s place. Not Carol’s. Tell Negan to stay away from her. The last thing we need is her and him together, not after what he did the other night.” Rick opened his door, standing in the doorway as he continued. “Give me half an hour —her, too —and we’ll meet at the cars.”

“Alright,” Daryl nodded, and turned to back towards the house that Sydney was in.


	9. Chapter 9

Less than a half hour later, Sydney followed Daryl and Michonne up to the cars. She felt ten-thousand times better now that she’d been able to clean up and change clothes. Michonne had apologized for knocking her out, and after discussing how Sydney came to be in Alexandria, they’d come to somewhat of a small understanding. Regardless, Sydney knew that Michonne would kill her if she even thought she posed the tiniest of threats to the residents of Alexandria. Michonne had, however, also provided Sydney with the clean jeans and sweater, along with new socks and a jacket that she was now wearing.  She’d been able to brush her hair — _albeit painfully due to the huge knot on her scalp_ — and it was now held at the back of her head in a loose bun. All in all, she didn’t feel that bad, considering what she’d been through.

As they came around the corner of the last house, Sydney saw Rick leaned up against the hood of one of the trucks. A map was spread out before him, and he was flanked by Negan and some people she didn’t know. An older woman with short, gray hair, an African-American man, and a few others. Carl was also there, and she gave him a small smile when he glanced her way. He quickly looked away from her.

“Rick.” Daryl announced their arrival, and the leader turned around to meet her eyes.

His blue eyes were unreadable as a they surveyed her, taking notice of every little thing it seemed. Like he was trying to read her. She shuffled on her feet under his gaze, but did not look away.

“You ready?” Rick asked her.

“Are you?” she shot back, still not completely over him leaving her locked up for so long.

Rick stared back at her, that crease between his brows present, his jaw ticking in that way seemed to be his norm.  Try as she might, she couldn't help but be intimidated by him. There was something very dangerous about him. 

“Let’s go. Daryl, Carol, you take the car. Neagn, you’re with me and Sydney—“

“I am not riding with him!” Sydney glared at Negan; he winked back at her, infuriating her further.

“You will or you don’t go,” Rick warned quietly. Sydney turned her glare to him, crossing her arms over her chest, but said nothing. She knew Rick wouldn’t hesitate to throw her back into that cell and leave her be.  Asshole that he was. 

“Alright,” Rick turned around to address the group. “ We have a general idea of where they last were according to Sydney”—he cut his eyes at her—“but we also know how these people are. They move, and they move quick. Today is more of a recon, but we need to be ready for whatever comes our way. Be on guard, since they blend in. Do not get split up. We stay together, and we leave together. No one gets left behind, understand?”

The group collectively nodded or answered their agreements.

“Set your radios to channel 40, and we communicate that way. We have our jobs, we know the plan, now let’s go finish this once and for all.”

* * *

 A little over 4 hours later, the group pulled up to an empty field. A long abandoned house and barn set back off the road, about half a mile, were their final destinations. Rick, being in the lead car, parked on the side of the road, and everyone else followed, staggering as they parked in the grassy shoulder.  He looked through his rearview mirror at Sydney.

“This the place?” His blue eyes were narrowed on her, that crease present as usual. 

“It was, yes.” Sydney wrapped her arms around herself, uncomfortable with being back after so long. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, could’t control the way her heartbeat had sped up at being back here. So many bad memories, so many bad things had happened here. So many things in that barn that she couldn't get out of her head. 

“It looks empty,” Negan’s bemused voice broke the silence. “Are they all gone?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, this is where they were. I left long before you guys had found me, so they could have moved on. Besides, you killing Alpha probably scared the shit out of them and they scattered.” Sydney looked over at the barn, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat at the memories that place held.

Rick picked up the radio, calling Daryl.  

 

“You and Carol, go around the back side. See what you can find.”

“Okay.” Daryl’s gravelly voice came over the line. Rick called the others, gave them their orders as well, and the small group scattered to their respective spots.  Only the three of them remained. 

Rick turned back to Negan. “We need to go check that barn out, the house. See if we find anything.” He opened the door, and Negan followed suit.

Sydney remained seated.

“Let’s go," Rick ordered from outside the car. He pulled Sydney's door open, glaring down at her. 

"I can't. What if I stay here, and just watch the car?" Sydney refused to meet his eyes, continued looking forward. Rick huffed, and the next thing she knew, she was being hauled out of the car by the scruff of her neck.  Negan was such an asshole.  

"I don't think so, doll.  You're coming with us." He dragged her over to the front of the car, waiting as Rick kicked the door shut and joined them.  

"Anything you wanna tell us before we go in?" Rick asked as he shoved his Python back into the holster at his thigh.  

"No," Sydney whispered quietly. 

"If shit goes down, I'm killing her myself, Prick," Negan stated firmly.  Rick nodded in agreement at the other man.  

"We do this quietly. No noise.  If she makes a move, does anything to let them know we're here, don't hesitate."  Rick's voice was resolute, clear in his intent, and Sydney couldn't control the shiver that coursed over her body.  

 


	10. Chapter 10

They walked through the busted fence, Negan, then Sydney, and finally Rick, bringing up the rear. He was limping with his cane, so it was slow-going at best. Still, it didn’t change the fact that Rick was a man to be reckoned with — busted leg or not. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head, his keen eyes watching her every move.

“Taking the left side,” Negan whispered loudly, directing the trio around the side and to the back of the barn. All was quiet. Eerily quiet. The three of them plastered themselves against the barn wall, waiting. Listening for any sound.

Negan nodded over Sydney’s head at Rick. Rick nodded back.

“Anybody home?” Negan pounded on the side of the barn, trying to get anyone’s attention that may be lurking inside — living or dead. A few moments later, and very faintly, they could hear the sound of the moaning and groaning that was attached to a walker.

“I got this,” Negan whispered again, skirting his way around and to the door. The walker ambled out, an older man, clad in only jeans. He had been decaying for a while, and Sydney shuddered as Negan finally ended the man’s life with a slice of his machete.

“Disgusting fucker,” Negan grumbled as he flicked the blood off his blade.

“Let’s check out the inside,” Rick commanded softly. Again, Negan led the way, with Rick and Sydney bringing up the rear. Once inside, the two men cleared out another two walkers that were stuck in a horse stall, but other than that, the building was clear.

“Well this fucking blows,” Negan grumbled again. “Nothing here, Prick. What now?”

“I’ll stay here with Sydney, see if we can find anything. Radio Daryl, see if they found anything. We all meet back here in 15, okay?” Rick handed the second radio to Negan as the trio headed back to the barn entrance. They stopped just outside the opening.

“If anything goes down, radio me. We’ll head back to the cars. Don’t hesitate to kill.” Rick placed a hand on Negan’s shoulder. “Be careful. These people blend in.” 

Negan nodded, then headed off in the direction of the others. Only Rick and Sydney remained.

“You been here before, right?” Rick asked the woman. Sydney nodded a 'yes'. “How long ago? Who was here, what happened, all that. Talk. _Now_.”

“Maybe two months ago? I don’t remember,” Sydney stared down the grass below her feet. Rick angrily grabbed her arm, his fingers biting into her skin and causing her to yelp.

“Don’t rememebr, or don’t wanna talk?”

“Rick—listen—I wasn’t a part of this group, not really. They took me here, but only because they’d killed my boyfriend and I tried to escape the first time. I was only here for…they brought me here to…Alpha, she didn’t want me to…” Sydney trailed off, her skin paling as her pulse beat erratically in her chest. The memories of what they did to her, of what those men did to her, came crashing down around her, swallowing her whole. She felt her knees trembling, started feeling light-headed as she began to physically crumple in Rick’s grip. He caught her before she slid down the wall.

“Did they hurt you?” Rick asked quietly, his voice belying the burning rage he felt in the pit of his stomach as she decompensated right before his eyes. He knew what she was going to tell him, but he didn't want to hear it. 

Sydney snorted, a sad pass at a chuckle. “Hurt me? No. I was already dead when they did what they did.” Her voice sounded hollow, devoid of any and all emotion.

“What did they do?” Rick asked again, his head tilted to the side as he studied her face. He was sure she was Shane’s sister now. Something about her brows, the way she held her head, reminded him of his former friend.

“ _What didn’t they do?_ ” Sydney dodged the question again. Rick sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get anything else from her. He’d try later—now was not the time.

“Okay. Okay. Let’s go inside, take a look around, see what we find.” Rick leaned down, his eyes on Sydney’s. “I’m sorry this happened to you, and I won’t let it happen again. But I don’t trust you. Not yet.”

Sydney nodded at him, a silent understanding of what he was telling her. He was warning her.

Rick pulled his python out, and with a finger at his lips for quiet, the two of them entered the barn again. It smelled of decaying flesh and overgrown weeds, the inhabitants long forgotten. Sydney closed her eyes to steady the rising panic as they ventured deeper into the barn, each step taking them closer and closer to the empty stall where those men had destroyed her body, mind, and soul. She prayed that Rick would be satisfied, that he wouldn’t want to go any further, but she knew he would.

“Anything ringin' a bell?” Rick asked as he surveyed the empty space. Not hearing an answer, he turned around to find Sydney staring towards the far corner of the barn. He followed her gaze, seeing an empty stall.

“Wait here,” he ordered her. Sydney nodded again, grateful for not having to go in any further. 

Rick quietly made his way over to the stall, his stomach turning when he saw what was causing the smell. 

There were two bodies, both women, and both badly decayed. What was left of them, was gruesome. They hadn't been put down, and he could see them begin to stir back to life as they sensed his presence. Their jaws started snapping, the pale, cloudy eyes searching for sustenance. They were completely naked, and both had their hands tied above their heads at the wall. Based on the way their legs were spread-eagle, and feet also tied, it was clear that they were used for one thing, and one thing only. Rick rubbed his free hand over his face, doing his best to not get sick. He would never understand the level of depravity that some had sunk to after the world had gone to shit. Never would it make sense to him.

“Do you see anything? What is it?” Sydney asked quietly from behind him.

“Don’t come over here,” Rick gruffly commanded. But it was too late, and before he could stop her, Sydney was at his back, staring around him. Seeing the two women turned walkers, she dropped to her knees and began softly rocking, her hands covering her mouth. Rick knelt down beside her, doing his best to shield her view, trying to turn her away to avoid having her see the women in such a state. The corpses were moaning and groaning much more loudly, their stagnant state leaving them as they sensed the warm bodies around them. 

“They were my friends, Rick,” Sydney sobbed quietly. “I couldn’t get them out…I…I left them… _and I couldn’t get them out_ …and they were young, Rick.” She started crying harder, using her hands to cover her ears as she cried. “They were so young, God! _They were just kids, Rick, and I left them here!_ ”

“You did what you had to, Sydney,” Rick murmured as he pulled her against his chest.

“No! I escaped, and I was selfish! I only thought about myself, and they beg…begged me…begged me to take them, Rick, but I just ran and ran!” Sydney was stuttering, her words broken up by hiccups and heaves as she continued to cry.

“You did what you had to do to survive, you hear me?” Rick forced her to look at him, his blue eyes boring into hers for emphasis. “There was nothing you could have done, nothing!”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Sydney kept shaking her head, refusing to believe him. A shadow appeared in the doorway, and Rick looked up, relieved to see Negan had come back with Daryl.

“What the fuck?” Negan asked, only to be shushed by Rick.  

“Daryl, get her outta here. Take her to the car, okay?” Rick jerked his head up at the archer. “We’ve seen enough here.” 

Sydney was still crying, still whimpering, but did not protest as Daryl leaned down and scooped her up in his strong arms. The two disappeared out of the barn, leaving Rick and Negan alone.

"Welp, that was sweet. What happened?" Negan asked as he looked around.  His eyes landed on the two corpses, his nose wrinkling in distaste as he put two and two together. The walkers snapped and writhed against their restraints, their senses awoken by the smell of flesh.  "She knew these two?" 

"I think so, yeah," Rick nodded solemnly.  "Said she escaped, but couldn't get them out.  I think this is where they did whatever the hell they did to her." Rick's jaw ticked angrily.  

"Well, based off of these two, I think we can fucking figure out what happened," Negan growled angrily as he knelt down beside the moaning corpses. He pulled out his knife.  "I'll do it." 

Rick nodded, staring out of one of the dusty window as Negan finally put the two women out of their restless misery. 


	11. Chapter 11

There was no sign of Beta, nor any of the Whisperers that day, and the small Alexandrian group headed back home right as the sun was beginning to set below the skyline. They pulled through now-repaired gates, and parked.

Sydney hadn’t spoken the entire ride back, had instead numbly stared out the window. She was sitting in the same spot, the back seat of Rick and Negan’s car, same as before. Only this time, there was a palpable sadness, a thick coat of gloominess that had nothing to do with the miserable world outside. More than once had Rick thought about speaking to Sydney, about checking on her, but he’d held his tongue, and instead had driven back just as quietly. Even Negan was quiet.

“We’ll regroup, check again in a few days,” Rick advised the group as they stood around the hood of the truck. Sydney stood off to the back of the group, her eyes unfocused as she stared off in the distance. After a few words with the others, only Rick, Negan,Carl, and Daryl remained. Daryl stood behind Sydney, his crossbow loosely aimed at her back.

“What about her?” he asked Rick, nodding in Sydney’s direction.

“Carl, watch her okay?” Rick ordered his son before pulling Negan and Daryl off a bit. He leaned on his cane, his jaw tense as he tried to figure out what to do.

“Can’t just let her roam around like one of us,” Negan stated matter-of-factly.

“Well, we can’t just lock her up again either,” Daryl muttered. “We don’t torture women around here.” Negan rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well maybe she could sleep with you tonight?” he quipped at Daryl.  Just before Daryl could shoot back a retort of his own, Rick intervened, holding up a hand to stop any further argument. Sometimes Daryl and Negan got along; other times they were likely to kill each other.

“Look. We can’t just let her roam around — that I agree with.” His eyes darted to Negan. “I also don’t think she needs to go back in the cell. I don’t think she’s a danger to us. Not after today.”

“So where does she go then?” Negan asked, his mouth drawn up into a disapproving scowl.

“I’ll keep her with me for tonight, just until we figure out what to do with her.”

“Rick, I don’t think so—” Daryl stepped forward, shaking his head in disagreement. Rick held his hand up again, halting the archer.

“Look, if she’s Shane’s sister — and I think she is — I need to keep her close. It has to be me. I was the one who…it was me who…” Rick trailed off, his eyes darting over to Sydney as he fumbled around his words.

“That fucking fuck deserved it, from what I heard,” Negan grunted. 

Rick stood firm, his eyes focused on the girl. 

“Either way, she’s my responsibility.”  

* * *

 

   
“You can have this room tonight. The door locks from the outside—” Rick rattled the doorknob for emphasis — “and It will be locked this evening. At least until we know we can trust you.”

Sydney said nothing, her eyes still planted firmly on the floor where they had been since they’d entered his house. Rick couldn’t help but feel as if it were he that were making her feel this way, that it was maybe being alone with him that was causing her so much discomfort. He could see the way her frail body was trembling, could see the way she was discreetly digging her nails into the palms of her hands. He knew anxiety when he saw it; he battled it daily, hourly, by the minute. 

“Sydney.” Rick stepped forward, lowering his head in her direction. “Can you look at me, please?”

The girl looked up, and Rick knew his previous thoughts were correct.

She was terrified, the whites of her eyes a stark contrast to the tawny brown. Her face was pale, and he could literally see the heartbeat as it pounded in her throat. The fear emanating off her was palpable. In this moment, she looked so much like Shane, it was nearly tearing him apart, this secret that he kept from her.  In another time, he might have gathered her up into his arms, held her tight and comforted her as he would his best friend's sister. 

“You’re safe now No one’s going to hurt you here.” Rick cautiously stepped forward again. “I just need to know that you aren’t going to hurt us.”

The girl shook her head from side to side, then quickly looked back down at the ground. Knowing there was not much else to do or say, Rick opened the door and waited. Sydney skirted past him, practically plastering herself to the door as she tried not to touch him. Once inside, she moved towards the bed, and stood at the other side, glancing up every now and then to watch Rick. He made no move to enter the room.

“You’ll be safe here,” he gently reiterated. “If you need anything, just yell. I’m right across the hall.” He pulled the door shut and locked it behind him.

He stood there by the door, listening for a moment, but heard nothing from the other side. After a few minutes of silence, Rick made his way across the hall, and sat down in his chair. He grunted as he kicked off his boots, his face contorting in pain as he pulled the sock from his bum leg. He wondered if it would ever heal, knowing it was doubtful without proper medical care and such. He rubbed at a spot above his knee, sweat beading on his brow as he tried to stretch out the taut muscles. He’d been warned by the doc that it wouldn’t heal properly, but what could he do? Sighing, he fell back on his bed, his mind still racing as he stared up at the ceiling.

Shane’s sister was across the hall.

_Of all the coincidences in the world, how did this happen?_ What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just let her go back out in the world, not when he knew her story. Not when she was his former best friend’s sister. He knew she was. There was just to many things that added up perfectly; he knew she was his sister. He couldn’t just let her go. He closed his eyes, his fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose as he tried to alleviate the throbbing in his head. 

* * *

  
Across the way, Daryl ground out his second cigarette. He was sat in the shadows, his back against the wall, as he watched Rick’s house. Watched for any sign of trouble. He would sit up the first part of the night and watch — he and Negan had agreed to take shifts, unbeknownst to Rick. They had to make sure that this girl wasn’t going to try anything.

“Nothing?” Negan quietly asked as he stepped on the porch, showing up to relieve the archer. Daryl emerged from the shadows.

“Nothing.”

“Good,” Negan remarked. “Rick still in the house?” Both knew what he was asking. Daryl shook his head.

“Nah, he’s still inside.”

“Huh.” Surprised, Negan sat down in the chair, propping one booted foot up on the porch railing as he settled in for the night. Daryl silently stepped off the porch, leaving Negan alone. He stared across the road at Rick’s house.

It was the first night since it happened that Rick hadn’t spent at the foot of Andrea’s grave.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Rick knocked on the door. “Sydney?”

No answer.

“Sydney. I need to open the door.” Rick called as he turned the key in the lock. He warily pushed open the door, his eyes widening when he saw the girl. She was asleep in the corner, wrapped up tightly in the blankets she’d dragged off the bed. He could hear her lightly snoring, and for some reason this warmed his heart. He was glad she’d slept. She needed it.

“Sydney.” He limped over to her, doing his best to move without the cane this morning. He tried when he could to not use it, to gain some strength in his leg. He stopped when he was but a few feet from her, watching as the lump in the blankets began to stir. A few moments later, he saw two brown eyes peek up at him.

“Rick?” Her voice was hoarse; he wondered if she’d been crying all night. He cursed himself for not offering her water.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s morning, wanted to see if you wanted something to eat. Everyone’s up, coming here for breakfast. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.” Rick offered a small smile of encouragement as Sydney lowered the blanket a tad more. He got a better look at her face, and he was convinced that she’d been crying. Her eyes were puffy, he cheeks red and chafed.

“Can I clean up first? I haven’t showered in so long, and…” Sydney trailed off, her cheeks heating with embarrassment at revealing that to Rick.

“It’s fine, really. I’ll get you a towel, find some clean clothes for you and let you take your time. The water isn’t that hot, but it’ll get you clean.” He smiled at her, still trying to be encouraging.

“Thank you.” Sydney’s voice was small, timid even. It was a huge contrast to the girl he’d met a few days ago. Clearly seeing those women in the barn had done a number on her.

“The bathroom’s down the hall. Follow me, I’ll get you settled and then work on getting some clothes for you.”

Sydney followed him down the short hall, the blanket still wrapped tightly around her shoulders. They arrived at the bathroom, and Rick showed her where everything was before leaving her alone. Once the door was closed, Sydney sat down on the toilet, marveling at hot the water that flowed so freely. It almost seemed normal, this life these people were living.

* * *

 Half an hour later, Sydney had finally managed to talk herself into going downstairs. She was clean now, wearing a pair of jeans, a tee shirt, and some boots. It was amazing what a lukewarm shower and fresh clothes could do for a person. Her hair was knotted up in a loose bun atop her head, her skin scrubbed clean of everything she could get off.  She almost felt normal. 

“About time you decide to join us,” Michonne’s warm voice caught Sydney’s attention. “You feel better?” Michonne pushed off the wall where she’d been leaning, her dark eyes surveying Sydney from top to bottom.

“Much, thank you,” Sydney answered.

“Come meet everyone,” Michonne nodded in the direction of where the voices were coming from. Sydney followed after her.

“Look what I found,” Michonne grinned she took up a seat at the bar. Sydney blanched as all eyes turned on her.

“Well shit, doll! You clean up nice!” Negan called from across the kitchen. He was seated at the table, drinking what she assumed was coffee. Her stomach growled at the thought, and she squirmed in an effort to mute the noise. 

“Ignore him, he’s an ass,” Michonne glared at Negan. She was still on the fence about allowing Negan to live, much less live amongst them in Alexandria.  Rick had his reasons for letting him live, she had hers for wanting him dead. “Sydney, come have a seat.”

Sydney did as she was told, and made her way over to the bar, taking the seat next to Michonne. She dared look up, and saw three other people in the kitchen, all new to her. Daryl was there, parked near the door — he gave her a cursory nod — and she saw Carl in the living room, playing with a small blonde-haired girl. Rick was nowhere to be found, though. She frowned —she wanted to thank him for his hospitality. For the clothes, for the shower. For not killing her.

“You alright?” Michonne studied Sydney’s face, concern in her dark eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Where’s everyone?” She looked around, bolder this time. There was the older woman with short, grey hair at the stove, the same one from the trip. Sydney thought she was called _Carol_ but couldn't be sure. A few other people, some that looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t recall their names.

“Alright! I got the eggs!” Rick’s deep voice carried through the house as he walked in and came into the kitchen. He stopped, dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on Sydney. His face lit up in a smile. “Morning, Sydney. You feeling better?”

Sydney found herself smiling back, nodding her head in agreement.

“I’ll take those,” the grey haired woman remarked as she took the eggs from Rick, who was still staring at Sydney. “Hi Sydney. I’m Carol.” The older woman winked at the younger woman before turning back to the stove.

Rick walked over to the two women, standing nearer to Michonne as he leaned against the bar. “The shower was good? Did you find the toothpaste and stuff I set out for you?”

“She’s fine, Rick,” Michonne arched an eyebrow as she regarded her friend. It was the first time in a long time that she’d seen anything other than a scowl on his face. It was refreshing; he was handsome when he wasn’t miserable and brooding. “Have a seat so we can eat.”

“Yes ma’am,” Rick teased as he pulled out a stool, and sat down across from the ladies. Sydney found it hard to meet his eyes, so instead stared down at the countertop, her fingers worrying each other as she twisted them together. It was uncomfortably quiet, and Sydney knew that all eyes were still on her.  

"I thought we might take a walk today, show you the neighborhood. Set you up in a house if you'd like?"  Rick's voice was gentle, cajoling, a and Sydney couldn't resist looking up.  He and Michonne were staring back at her, waiting for her response.  

"Okay," Sydney nodded in agreement.  Michonne's brows drew together at the quick response, but she didn't question Sydney. 

"Breakfast is done!" Carol informed as she set the platter down on the end of the bar.  Michonne and the others began to help themselves, while Sydney hung back, indicating that she would wait for everyone else.  Rick followed, waiting with her.  At the sight of eggs, ham, and toast, Sydney's stomach growled even louder, drawing Rick's blue eyes to her again. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes at hearing the noise, and Sydney couldn't help but blush furiously under his gaze. 

"I haven't had eggs in a long time," Sydney quietly admitted.  Hell, she hadn't had anything that wasn't canned in a long time.  Living alone, scavenging for anything she could find. Expired cans of vegetables, stale beef jerseys and candy. It had been so long since she'd had anything resembling real food since the outbreak. 

"Well, Carol's a great cook," Rick winked at her, ushering her forward to get their plates.  "We eat, and then we can take that walk, okay?" 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Later that evening, after her walk, Sydney found herself in the middle of Alexandria. She sat on the small bench before the pond, watching as the bugs and minnows flitted across the water’s surface. It was surreal here, so deceptively calm, and she couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Part of her wanted to stay forever, while the other part of her desperately wanted to run away. To go back out in the world where she had to fight everyday to survive. Places like this made you weak and vulnerable.

Places like this would get you killed, in one way or the other.

It had been interesting, the slow tour she, Rick, and Michonne had take around Alexandria. On the one hand, it was amazing, seeing how this community had come together. However, on the other hand, Sydney felt a deep sense of pity for these people, knowing how quickly everything could be ripped away, the rug pulled right out from under their feet. So many of them had not a clue about the world outside; they seemingly just went on with their former lives, only now it was done behind the guise of protective walls. She snorted, watching as a mother and (she assumed) her child walked down to the other side of the lake and began feeding a duck that was swimming nearby. So damn calm and surreal —one could almost forget that right out side, the undead were roaming, looking for any opportunity to get inside and kill.

She’d finally managed to calm down from the day prior. The shock of seeing those two women — _those she might have considered friends at one time_ —had almost caused her to have a nervous breakdown. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the terrible images that lingered.

“Mind if I sit down?” Rick asked quietly, drawing her out of her dark thoughts. Sydney scooted over, indicating her agreement, and Rick gingerly sat down.

“You should do something about that leg,” Sydney frowned down at it.

“Not much I can,” Rick chuckled as he stretched said leg out in front of him. “Been this way for a while.”

“Trust me, we can work on it,” Sydney disagreed with him. “I can’t say that I’ve seen worse, but I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Well, you’re the doc here, not me, so whatever you say.” Rick huffed out a laugh again.

“How did you get this place to be like this?” Sydney asked, looking back over the pond. The crickets were chirping in the fall night air, the moon was high, and one could almost believe that the world was still normal and the dead weren’t walking.

“Like what?” Rick asked.

“Safe. _Normal._ It’s almost like nothing ever happened here,” Sydney wrapped her arms around her torso, warding off the chill as her teeth chattered. Whether it was from the cold, or from the stress, she couldn’t tell.

“Here, take this.” Rick gently laid his jacket around her shoulders, and Sydney immediately felt the warmth from his body seep into her bones. She turned her head into the collar, feeling the fleece against her lips, her senses assaulted with Rick’s unique smell. It was woody, smelling of the earth, and hard work, and some kind of cologne. Something deep inside her stirred back to life.

“You’ll get cold,” Sydney half-heartedly protested, knowing damn good and well she wasn’t going to give his jacket back any time soon. She had his jacket, so maybe he was going to stay a while? Something about the leader of Alexandria was warm and comforting, just like this jacket. She felt safe around him, protected. It was an odd feeling after being on her own for so long, and one she didn’t want to give up so quickly.   _Rick Grimes made her feel some kind of way..._

“Nah, I’m good.” Ever the gentleman was he.  Sydney snuggled down into the jacket, taking advantage of the warmth.

“You can stay here if you like. Everyone agrees.” Rick spoke softly, breaking the silence that stretched between them.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” She was honest—she had no idea what she was going to do. Rick snorted in disagreement.

“For what it’s worth, I think you should stay. Daryl likes you, hell, Negan likes you.”

“Am I supposed to be happy about that?” It was Sydney’s turn to snort at the mention of the dark-haired asshole.

“I used to want to kill him. Hell, I tried multiple times. Now,” —Rick paused as he stared off in the distance — “now, I don’t know what we are. I still have moments where I want to kill him, but he’s come around, helped us out.” He reached down and rubbed at his knee. “He’s actually the one who did this to my leg.”

Sydney looked down at Rick’s outstretched leg, her brows knotting in confusion. “The man broke your leg, and he’s still here? Was it an accident?”

“Uh, no..it wasn’t an accident.” Rick pulled his hand back and sat up a bit straighter. “We were literally in this way. Him killing my people, me killing his. We tried to kill each other. I cut his throat, he nearly broke my leg. We caught him, and he stayed locked up in that cell”—Rick trailed off at the mention of that hellish cell she’d had to occupy on her first day here. His blue eyes cut towards Sydney before continuing. “We kept him prisoner for a good long while, but eventually it became evident that we couldn’t live that way, and now here we are.”

“So you just let him out?”

“One big dysfunctional happy family, I guess,” Rick chuckled again.

“You’re a better person than me.” Sydney looked around again as she pulled his coat tight around her shoulders. “What you’ve done here, what you’ve accomplished, it’s amazing. these people respect you, follow you. You’re a good man, Rick. I can tell.” She glanced at him briefly before looking away. “It’s rare to find good men in this world anymore, but I can see that you’re one.

With a deep sigh, Rick leaned forward , his hands clutching the edge of the bench, his jaw ticking in that way that she’d noticed was one of his idiosyncrasies. Sydney wondered what she’d said to change the mood, her mind drawing a blank. She could feel the shift in his body, could feel the tension emanating off of him just as sure as if she were able to reach out and touch it _. What just happened?_

“No. No, I am not, a good man.” Quietly, Rick stood, using his cane for leverage. He stared down at Sydney, his mouth see in a taut line. “Like I said, you’re welcome to stay if you’d like. If you need me, I’ll be just across the street. Otherwise, anyone can help, just ask.”

Sydney watched, dismayed as Rick limped off towards his house.  She was filled with a sense of regret. So many things had been left unsaid, things that she felt she needed to say to Rick and his group. They'd welcomed her in. _Her, of all people._ There was a time not too long ago that she'd walked among the dead and lived with Alpha's crew;  the distaste that Rick and his group had for the so-called _Whisperers_ was not lost on her.  Still, they'd let her in, and accepted her as one of their own.  Hell, they'd even given her a place to stay, a room of her own.  She had wanted to apologize for being such an asshole in the beginning, for behaving the way she had. Jesus, she groaned, remembering that she'd kneed him in the groin upon meeting her. 

She watched across the way as he stepped onto his porch, pausing briefly to look around before entering his house. A light came on, the only indication that someone was at home, before quickly being extinguished.  Sydney sat, all alone again as the night enveloped her, the temperature dropping even further. She shivered, wrapping her coat-

"Oh shit!" Sydney yelped as she realized she was still wearing Rick's coat.  She gathered her water bottle and small bag of pretzels she'd been munching on, and made her way over to Rick's house.  She knocked on the door, fidgeting on her feet as she waited.  And waited.  

And waited some more.  

Finally, she realized that Rick was probably upstairs, and could thus not hear her knocking.  She could open the door and call up to him, or she could leave it be until tomorrow. She was an early riser, he could get the coat in the morning, no worries.  Not wanting to intrude by entering his house, she opted for the latter.  

* * *

 

An hour later, Sydney had tried and tried to resist it, but she couldn't, and eventually found herself in the corner of her room, the pillows and blankets piled around her as she lay on the floor.  

The only thing that differentiated this night from any other was the brown leather jacket that she clutched to her chest as she finally fell asleep...

    


	14. Chapter 14

**A month later….**

Sydney had quickly become a member of Alexandria, had even managed to find ways to give back to the community, whether it be through washing clothes, or cooking, or pulling guard duty.She’d even managed to squeeze in some massages, doing her best to put her therapist skills to use, even in such a shitty world. Carol had become her best friend after that, and Michonne would soon be a regular at the rate she was going! She had done her best to repay the people that had treated her well, and she would forever be grateful for them giving her the respite she hadn’t known she’d needed.

However, a large part of her still remained unfulfilled, the need for vengeance still burned brightly in her heart, and at least a few times a week she thought about leaving Alexandria and finishing what she had started.Beta was still out there, still running loose with no signs of him being caught.She hated feeling trapped. Hated feeling as if he were winning still.Hated being trapped inside these walls.

“Ya alright?” Daryl grumbled as he came up the ladder and sat next to her on her perch atop the wall.

“Yup.”

“Liar,” Daryl snorted.He pushed a bottle of water towards her, and Sydney reluctantly took it from him.

“Nothing yet?” Sydney queried as she nearly downed the bottle of water in mere seconds. 

“Nope.”

‘We should be out looking. Instead of just sitting here, waiting for him and the rest of them to come here.”Sydney glared through the binoculars, her eyes straining as if she could magically make Beta appear.

“We have scouts out everyday,” Daryl countered.  

“Yeah, and Rick won’t let me go.”

“He’s trying to protect ya.”

It was Sydney’s turn to snort. Rick and his insane need to protect everyone.  Her included. 

“Well, before you and the asshole pulled me down from the tree, I was doing just fine on my own.It was only a matter of time before I ran in to Beta and the rest of those monsters, and finished them off.”

“You wouldn’t last much longer out there, not on your own,” Daryl disagreed.Sydney narrowed at her eyes at him.

“That’s mighty misogynistic of you, isn’t it?”

“Well shit. I don’t even know what that means,” Daryl smirked as he pushed a thin piece of wood in-between his lips and worked it like a toothpick. 

“Now who's the liar?” Sydney laughed as she leaned back against his shoulder.Daryl Dixon was much smarter than anyone gave him credit for; she knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt. 

“Look, you’ll be the first to know when we find ‘em. You know that, Rick won’t keep it from ya'.”Daryl affectionately bumped her shoulder. Sydney bumped back.

“I know he wouldn’t.” She looked out over the roads leading up to Alexandria, the evening appearing just as quiet as it usually did, and tried her best to not let her thoughts stray to the former sheriff’s deputy.  It was a feat proving more and more difficult the longer she stayed here.

Rick had grown on her in the past few weeks, much as everyone else had, but in a very different way.Sydney found herself watching him when he was working, looking for him when she went about her business.He’d offered her his coat on more than one occasion, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed when he’d come back from a run with a coat just for her.She reluctantly gave his back, but deep down felt very empty not sleeping with his coat that night.It brought comfort to her, it seemed as if his very warmth was intertwined with the fabric of that coat, and she would sorely miss it.

Rick had also not shied away from her, had in fact made his presence known even more.While he wasn’t that talkative to her, he seemed to watch over her, and she got the distinct feeling that he was protecting her, even if from a distance.When she went outside the gates with the others, Rick would always be there, watching over her with his weapon at the ready. That was if he let her go alone; usually he did not, and would accompany them on whatever the trip was. It was endearing and annoying — all at the same time, and Sydney was still trying to figure out where his sometimes- overbearing inclination to protect her came from. Sometimes it almost seemed fatherly the way he watched over her, and that unnerved her when she still wasn't sure what she was feeling where he was concerned.  But a father/daughter relationship was the furtherest thing from her mind, that she was sure of!

A few times he’d come by her house and brought things that he’d found on a run, things he thought she might like, he’d said. Books, different soaps, one time a pair of silly, mismatched socks.He would drop off food on her doorstep, making sure to bring apples when they were available (her favorite), and he always brought water regularly. Just a few days ago, he’d brought her a six pack of Cokes, and before she thought about it, she had thrown her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as she thanked him over and over for the unexpected surprise.She’d remembered how Rick had blushed under his scruffy beard, his blue eyes glinting with humor at her reaction even as he nervously laughed deep in his chest. How red she herself had turned when she heard the loud throat-clearing directed at them, and how Rick untangled her from his neck, and she realized Negan was standing back there, laughing like the asshole he was. Rick had glared at him, and Negan had walked away, humming that damn song about two people _"sitting in a tree and k-i-s-s-i-n-g"_. He could be such a childish asshole most of the time!

Yeah, she was confused where Rick was concerned… _to say the least._ After the hug — _and the ensuing awkwardness_ —Sydney had kept her distance from Rick.Anyone watching on the outside would think she had a crush on him, and that wouldn’t do, because she had only lost her boyfriend but a short time ago, and that would be so wrong on so many levels to even entertain the thought of another man! She shook her head, frowning as she tried to shake the mental images of Rick from her brain.

“You still with me?” Daryl snapped his fingers in front of her face, drawing her back to the present.Sydney took in a deep breath, still trying to clear her mind of the leader of Alexandria.

“Yeah, just got a lot on my mind, is all,” Sydney hedged.  Namely, one blue-eyed, handsome-as-the-devil former sheriff's deputy....

“Seems like it.” Daryl stood up, dusting off his ass and pants as he did so.“So, Rick tells me ya gonna do some therapy or shit on his leg?” 

_Oh god. That was today, wasn’t it?_   Her thoughts swirling about, mind racing, Sydney began to freak out, her palms getting sweaty as she realized today was indeed the day she’d promised Rick to help him work on his bum leg. 

“Uhh, yeah, I think that’s today. What’s today?” Sydney looked down at her watch, almost as if it would tell her the day when it couldn't even tell her the time. Piece of shit had been broken for nearly 3 weeks now.

“Thursday.” 

“Shit. Yeah, that’s today.” 

“Well don’t sound so excited,” Daryl chuckled as he adjusted his crossbow over his shoulder.  

Sydney just glared at him through narrowed eyes.“Not what I meant, you asshole.” 

Daryl grinned again before making his way over to the ladder.  “Well, I could use some work too. My damn back is killin’ me!”  

“It’s gonna cost ya!” Sydney grinned down at him.  “Another six-pack of cokes!” 

“Son of a bitch,” Daryl grumbled as he made his way down the ladder.Once at the bottom, he looked up to see Sydney staring down at him, one brow arched as she waited for his response.

“I’ll find ya some damn cokes, woman!” The archer playfully flipped her off, earning a return flip-off from her. 

“Well, when you do, come talk to me about that massage!” Sydney laughed as Daryl waved her off with a snort, before finally disappearing around the edge of a building. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been wanting to post this chapter forever haha

 

  

“Can you stop whining and just do what I ask you?” Sydney huffed as she attempted to rotate Rick’s leg back to where she needed it. He grunted in response, earning another glare from her.  She dropped his leg and stood back, hands on hips as she stared at him.  Why was he so pig-headed every single time? 

It was the second week of Rick's self-inflicted rehab, and it was going better than she thought - at least where Rick's leg was concerned.  He was making tremendous strides in his recovery, and it would be soon that he wouldn't need to be hobbling around with that cane.  He was drenched in sweat, his dark tee-shirt soaked through, his curls twisted into sloppy ringlets that framed his wet face.  She could see the pain reflected back at her in his blue eyes, but she could also see the determination there -  and both knew that it needed to be done.  _If it could be done._   Rick’s leg had been this way for maybe too long, and it was gonna take a miracle to get the mobility back that he was used to, but they had made so much progress that she was refusing to believe any other outcome was a possibility. At this point, she just wanted him up and walking without that damn cane, whether his leg fully healed or not! He was much to young for that shit. 

“Well?”  She asked him again, softer this time.  She knew it hurt, and it hurt her to see him in pain. 

But, she also knew it needed to be done... 

“We can try again,” Rick mumbled as he dropped his head back, essentially giving her free reign to do what she needed to do with his body.  

“Alright, one more time.”  Sydney took her spot next to his thigh, and gently placed her hand under his quad.  She could feel him trembling against her palm.  “All I want you to do is try to lift your toe up and point it at the ceiling, okay?  Just straight up.” 

Rick complied, lifting his leg off the bed as best as he could.  

“Good, good!” Sydney encouraged.  “Now, I’m gonna take your ankle in my hand, and we’re gonna lift your whole leg up as far as we can, okay? I need to see if you’ve gotten any flexibility in that quad.” She hoped he'd been doing his exercises faithfully, and that something had paid off. 

Rick grunted again, but didn’t protest as she began lifting his ankle - and leg - straight up.  Sydney watched his face, her eyes searching for when it was too much.  He doggedly continued to stare up at the ceiling, but she could see the flex of his jaw getting harder and harder as she lifted higher.  He was such a stubborn man.  When she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down, not once, but twice, she knew it was time to quit.  Rick let out a shaky breath of relief as she lowered his leg back to the bed.  

“I’ve never been a flexible guy,” he wearily chuckled.  He was still shaking, his hands trembling as he swiped one across his face.  His veins were prominent with the strain she’d just put on his body, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to get his breathing under control, and Sydney felt her heart clench a little in her chest. 

“Really?  I assumed you were some kind of cheerleader, doing splits and all that,” Sydney nervously teased as she handed him a towel.  She waited a moment, watching as his breathing began to regulate, which in turn caused hers to slow down as well. 

“Yeah, that was me, alright.  Tight pants and all!” Rick grinned up at her.  Some of the color was returning to his face, and it struck Sydney again how handsome he was when he smiled. How blue his eyes were against his tanned skin, how handsome he looked all sweaty, his hair wet…

She reached down without thinking and pushed some of his curls back off his forehead, and gently ran her thumb over the skin just below his hairline before she realized what she was doing.  Embarrassed, she quickly snatched her hand back, unable to look him in the eye.  She fumbled with the blanket, twisting it between her fingers and praying he missed what had just happened.  

“So, I think you are doing much better. I’m no doctor, so I can’t say if it’ll ever be one-hundred percent, but I think we might be able to get rid of the cane completely.”  Sydney's voice was higher-pitched when she finally looked up at him.  “Ready to get up and try to walk without it?’’  

Rick was staring back at her, a curiosity in his eyes that she’d not really seen before. Or not noticed.  Who the hell knew. She was so flustered right now, she could barely formulate coherent words. She looked back down, unable to hold his gaze for any longer.  

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”  Rick pushed himself up on his elbows, and, relieved with something to do, Sydney took her usual spot near his chest.  

Like always, she would situate herself up under his arm and help him come to a standing position. And like always,  he usually protested at being lifted  — _“like a damn old man”, he’d say_ —but she fought back, knowing how weak he could be after the therapy exercises.  Today, though…today felt different.  He didn’t protest, he didn’t argue.  When she nestled herself up under his sweaty arm, she had a completely different feeling.  His skin felt hotter than usual against hers.  She could feel her breast pressed up against his hard chest.  She could feel his fingers as they gripped her shoulder through her tee-shirt. She could smell his body wash or soap, whatever he used.  She could feel his breath against her cheek.  His lips were right there, right next—

“We gonna sit here all day, or are you gonna help me up?”  Rick’s deep voice was teasing, and Sydney flushed anew.  

“Waiting on you,” she retorted, maybe a little too harshly.  Rick chuckled as he tightened his grip on her shoulder.  Like an old dance that only they knew the moves to, Sydney helped rotate him until he was at the edge of the bed, and then in one fluid movement, she had pulled him into a standing position in front of her.  Her hands rested on his either side of his rib cage; his rested on her shoulders. 

And like an idiot, she stood there for far too long, staring at his chest, her eyes level with the patch of sweaty, salt and pepper hair that peeked out from the collar of his tee shirt.  

“Syd?”  Rick’s deep voice rumbled above her, causing her to look up.  Big mistake.  

He was watching her, his blue eyes darker than usual as he stared down. Studying her.  

“You alright?”  His voice was a low rumble, his breath tickling the skin of her cheeks.   Each time he inhaled and exhaled, his chest came that much closer to hers.  

“I’m fine. You?”  In contrast to him, her voice was more like a squeak.  She was breathless, and she couldn’t understand why.  _She barely liked Rick,_ she lied to herself, doing her best to convince herself that it was true. 

“Thank you for helping me, Sydney,” Rick continued softly, his fingers curling around her shoulders a tiny bit more.  She wanted him to pull her into him.  She had the insane urge to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his chest, to feel just for a moment what it felt like to be hugged again. By him.  To feel safe, wrapped up in his strong arms.  She had been alone for so long, even when surrounded by so many people.   

“Usually people say “you’re welcome” or something after someone says “thanks”,” Rick teased again.  Sydney looked up, only to catch him wink down at her.  She felt her cheeks bloom with color for the umpteenth time, and before she could say or do anything, Rick his slid his hands up to her cheeks and tilted her head towards his.  He gently planted a soft kiss on her forehead, and released her.  

“So now, I’m gonna walk over to that table, and get a bottle of water.  I just want you to watch me, and make sure I don’t fall.”  Rick pulled out of her arms, leaving her shocked as he began to move away from her without his cane.  While he’d been limping around with the cane occasionally, it was always harder for him after their sessions. 

Sydney pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks, still not sure of what the hell had just happened between the two of them.  She watched Rick, seeing him in a new light as he made his way across the living room and into the kitchen.  In what seemed like no time at all, Rick had made his way to not only the table for the bottle of water, but over to the sink.  He was standing there, grinning back at her as he wet a rag and swiped it over his face.  He was confident, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness as he gave her a huge grin.  

“I did it,” Rick laughed as he leaned up against the countertop.  “No cane, no help from you, I fucking did it!”  

Finding her voice, Sydney laughed as she came into the kitchen. “I guess I can put the wheelchair up, huh?” She crossed her arms over her chest as she grinned back at him.  

“You’re such a pain in my ass, you know that?”  Rick dried his hands off on the rag, and playfully tossed it at her.  

“Pfft!”  Sydney snorted.  “You love me, and you know it.  What the hell would you do without me?”  

Rick’s grin faded into a smile, his head tilting in that way that indicated he was thinking. Analyzing.   Analyzing her.  “I’m starting to wonder that myself.”  

“Rick…I don’t…—“ Sydney fumbled with her words, trying to form some kind of coherent response. Rick didn’t give her time, though. 

“So I’m gonna go up to the shop and talk with Negan and Daryl.  You can let yourself out, or stay, whatever you’d like.”  Rick slowly walked over to the bed and grabbed his cane.  He looked over his shoulder, nodding down at the cane.  “Just in case.”  

Sydney stared after him, still standing there with the rag in hand as the door closed.   _Who was she kidding?_

She was falling in love with Rick Grimes. 


End file.
